maggie meets my mom

Description of argument in the wee hours of the morning about cardinal directions has been noded separately.

kanon42 meets my mom, today. The last time one of my SOs met my mom, the first few minutes (for which I, having gone separately from a different starting point, was not present) consisted of my mother

  • extorting her not to breed with me (“don’t pass on those horrible genes of ours!”)

  • telling her that I’m weirder than I first seem, and that anyone with any sense should run away, very fast . Fortunately, anyone who comes within shouting distance of me and has two brain cells to rub together can generally percieve the quality if perhaps not the quantity of my eccentricity (and thus, if they stay within shouting range it’s their own damn fault).

This also means we spend several hours amid rush hour commuters on public transportation. I intend to amuse myself with Terry Pratchett.